


Melody Song

by betawho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Family, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1344091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/pseuds/betawho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River is turned into a child. She's six years old, cute as a button, and pissed off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Melody Song

River stomped into the Tardis wearing a prison unitard, and seething. Her hair boiled around her head like an angry thunderstorm. Her vortex manipulator hung, clunky, on one slender wrist.

“You’d better be able to reverse this, Sweetie.” She frowned at the high, piping sound of her voice.

The others followed her in. The Doctor ran immediately for the console, his face wearing a sternly repressed, determined expression, fiercely biting down on the corners of his mouth that kept trying to tilt up. If he smiled, he knew he’d live to regret it.

Amy and Rory walked in, staring at River, both of them with gooey, besotted looks on their faces.

Rory shut the door. The Doctor threw the Tardis into flight.

“You’re just so _cute_!” Amy gushed, leaning over, reaching out to stroke the silky curls on River’s childlike, six-year-old head.

River’s pudgy child’s arm whipped up and knocked her wrist aside. Her newly infantalized face scowling. “Don’t even think about it, Amy,” she said sternly.

The Doctor chocked down a suspicious sounding snort.

River turned and leveled a glare at her husband, childishly pudgy hands going to her nonexistent hips. “And what are you laughing about, Sweetie?” she demanded, tapping one tiny foot.

Rory, behind her, went all gooey and “Awww”-looking at his little girl. His princess.

The Doctor coughed and shook his head, keeping the console between him and River. “Nothing,” he choked out, frantically working useless controls.

He cleared his throat and stepped out where he could see her. Standing below in the entrance well, her parents hovering adoringly on each side, his miniature wife scowled up at him from a six-year-old body.

“You’re lucky you were only convicted of theft of the queen’s spaceship. A more severe crime could have resulting in them reverting you all the way back to infancy. They figure it’s best to simply start over and raise someone right, so they don’t become a criminal again.”

River made a disgusted noise and threw her arms out. “Look at me!” She was little more than waist high to Amy and Rory, delicate as a china doll, but with that intimidating childish sturdiness. She still had her wide mouth, and her riveting eyes, and her sleek eyebrows, but now it was coupled with a little button nose and an adorable little chin. And, of course, the hair, a veritable deadly dandelion of light yellow curls.

He grinned. “You are adorable.”

“Aargh!” she stomped in a circle and tore at her hair with little fists. “I am not doing this again!” she yelled in a high, but very distinctly River, voice. “I’ve already gone through childhood twice, I am not doing it again.” She glared at the Doctor. Demanding he fix it.

“Now, sweetie,” Rory cajoled, walking up, arms held out as if he meant to pick her up.

She whirled and pointed a tiny finger at him. “Don’t you dare ‘Sweetie’ me, Rory Williams,” she declared in an offputting voice. Brows down.

Rory stopped and looked uncertainly toward Amy.

“But River, don’t you see. This means we could raise you after all,” Amy said in a hopeful voice.

River turned to stare at her with horrified eyes.

She whirled, small body dashing across the Tardis and jumping up, catching the dais railing with one hand and swung lithely up under the railing onto the console floor. She ran behind the Doctor, then turned and stood at bay.

“Tell them, Doctor. Explain,” she said in a quiet, but slightly terrified voice.

He turned and looked down at her. She looked up with eyes he recognized. Eyes that had been through fire. Eyes that did not want to destroy all she loved. But sometimes had no choice.

The amusement dropped off his face, and he nodded. She sighed out, and some of the tension left her small form.

Amy and Rory were walking up the dais stairs, River had never realized how tall they were, how very large. Somehow, the Doctor didn’t loom as much.

It wasn’t that she was hiding behind him. Even this size she knew ways of dealing with much larger opponents. But this was Amy and Rory. Her parents. Who had never had the chance to parent her.

And she knew exactly the kind of temptation this situation must be for them. She stared down at her hands. Child’s hands. Little and tender and seemingly clumsy. But she’d learned just how deadly a child’s hands could be.

She squared her small shoulders. No. She would _not_ go through this again. Two childhoods were enough. A darkness passed over her vision, one of those voids in her memory she tried so hard to ignore. Possibly two childhoods. Maybe more. She’d been trained in techniques that could be deadly to anyone else. Regeneration had already felt all too familiar that day in New York, in that cold dirty alley.

She clenched her hands, little fists so tight they shook. No. Not again.

“River?” the Doctor looked down at her. He had started forward to explain to Amy and Rory, but he’d seen the look that passed over her.

She raised dark eyes to his. Her eyes glimmered. He dropped to one knee before her and grabbed her into strong arms. She threw her arms around his neck and held on tight, body shaking.

Rory made a hurt noise behind him. The Doctor held up a warding hand, holding off the young father.

He hugged River tight. She hid her face in his neck. Her whole small body shaking. “I can’t do this again,” she whispered.

She hid her face in his neck, just as his wife always had. Bodies didn’t matter. They were Time Lords, they understood that. But some things could not be borne.

“We’ll fix it,” he promised, fiercely, whispering into her hair. He ran his hands up and down her small back until she stopped shivering. He set her on her feet. “There’s nothing you and I can’t do,” he reminded her.

“Damn straight,” she said, sniffling a bit. She wiped the tears off her cheeks with the middle fingers of each hand. An oddly elegant motion for a child. But very much River.

The Doctor stood up, and they turned to a confused and anxious looking Amy and Rory. Rory was looking a bit angry, as if he felt his place as father and comforter had been usurped.

The Doctor and River stood side by side, she was only half his size, with the breastless and hipless body of a child, but it was very much the stance of equals.

“She’s not a child,” the Doctor said, with unusual gravity. “You can’t raise her again. Her mind is _already_ mature. That’s part of the Kestus punishment system, to revert an adult mind, back into the body of a helpless child.”

River snorted beside him.

He grinned and looked down at her, she tipped that stubborn little chin up to him and gave him a very River wink. She had that smirky, flirtatious look on her face.

He threw back his head and laughed.

He looked back down at the confused Amy and Rory, wiping the laughter tears out of his eyes. “No doubt they’d never come across a child like River before.”

“Certainly they didn’t expect a child to have the physical skills to get out of those prisons of theirs.” River buffed her varnish-free nails on her prison onesie. “It was literally child’s play.”

Amy groaned.

River grinned at her. “I’m sorry ‘mum’ but this is _entirely_ temporary.” She waved a hand down her short form.

Rory gave her a hurt look, but, as usual, tried to mask it with stoicism.

River walked up to him, cautiously. Slowly, deliberately, she held her arms up to him, like a child wanting to be picked up by her father.

He choked and scooped her up, squeezing her tight.

She could feel his tears, scalding on her cheek. She gave him this moment, a moment he’d never have again. And, frankly, a moment she’d never had either. To be held in her father’s strong loving arms, as a child. He’d always been a child _with_ her.

She laid her head on his shoulder. He made a choking sound and turned his face into her neck. She could feel him breathing in the clean, childish scent of this new body.

“Okay, that’s enough. Now it’s getting weird,” she said in her oddly adult “River” voice.

“Okay, yes, sorry,” he started to set her down. But Amy yelled, “Just a minute!”

They turned in surprise, to be caught by a flash from Amy’s camera phone. Both of them held identical surprised expressions.

Amy laughed. “That’s perfect!”

River promptly posed in Rory’s arms. Amy grinned and snapped another picture.

And another, and another, and another.

Rory set her down, and River stood and held his hand like a proper little “daughter.” Amy snapped a picture. River went and stood by the Doctor, who also struck a pose. And Amy snapped a picture.

River went to start a biology scan on the console, having to stand on tiptoe to reach the controls. Amy snapped a picture. River turned and frowned at her. Amy snapped a picture. River rolled her eyes. Rory snapped a picture.

River sighed, and ignored them. The Doctor joined her at the console and together they started putting together a picture of how the criminal punishment system had altered her DNA. The Tardis, not one to miss out on the action, materialized a step stool, to allow River better reach.

Amy and Rory both took a picture.

River sighed.

“You can’t blame them,” the Doctor whispered, as they worked. “This may be their only chance to see you as a child. Their only child.”

“I know,” she whispered back, resigned, standing on her stepstool, childish hands competently working the controls.

Then she turned a twinkling, flirty eye on him. “I just wish I didn’t look so awful. _Really_ , prison garb? No makeup? No nail polish?

“And my _hair_...”

—

* * *

_For more stories by this author click[here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/works)._  
 _Please take a moment to leave a comment in the box below._


	2. Baby Pictures

“There! That’s got it!” the Doctor triumphantly flicked a switch and gestured at the monitor.

River, transformed into a six-year-old body by an alien criminal justice system, stretched up on her stepstool and read the monitor screen.

“Oh, is that all?” she asked in her high, piping voice.

“What?” Amy asked from the sidelines, where she and Rory had been watching this child version of River, their child, as she and the Doctor had worked.

River turned to them, button nose, childish lips, bright dandelion curls, and smiled. “Piece of cake. We’ll have me back to normal in no time.” She jumped down off her stool with childish elasticity.

The Doctor spoke up behind her, his eyes following his newly kiddiefied wife, unable to stop watching her, as they all were. “It wouldn’t work if she wasn’t already part Time Lord, with cells accustomed to regeneration.”

“Wait, what?” Rory said, staring at his daughter with dismay. “You have to regenerate? I thought you couldn’t do that any more.”

River bounced on her toes, curls bouncing. “No, I don’t have to regenerate, but I’ve always had the ability to control my aging process to a degree. A little extra Artron energy and I can accelerate back to my normal age,” she said.

“And I can provide the Artron energy,” the Doctor said, leaning nonchalantly against the console.

River gave him a tipped eyebrow look. Amy giggled. River turned that childish eyebrow on her, and just caused her to giggle more. River rolled her eyes.

She turned back to the Doctor. “We will have the Tardis trickle charge a battery. We don’t need you needlessly wasting energy.”

“Oh, but I don’t mind,” the Doctor said. “Payback you might say.” He grinned at her.

She shook her curls and went up and beckoned him down to her height. He bent down. She kissed him softly on the cheek. “It was my pleasure,” she said. Making him grin. Then slapped him lightly on the other cheek, making him jump in surprise. “But we’ll use a battery,” she said sternly.

“Wait,” Amy said. “How long will this battery take to charge?”

She shared a glance with Rory, Rory’s eyebrows popped up in that unusual married telepathy. He nodded eagerly.

River’s eyes flicked back and forth between them, waryily. “It should take most of the day, why?”

“This is our chance,” Amy enthused. “Think about it, this is probably our only chance to see you as a kid. We should get lots of pictures. When people want proof that you’re really our kid, we could have a family album to show them!” Amy clapped her hands.

Rory nodded enthusiastically at River.

River turned and looked up at the Doctor. He shrugged and grinned back down at her. “Could be fun.”

“Think about it,” Amy said. “We could set up all those things we never got to do with you as a kid. Play dress up.”

River’s eyes sparked. She bit her lip, and started unconsciously bouncing on her toes again. She looked up at the Doctor. “Do you think the Tardis has any little girl clothes in the wardrobe?”

He grinned down at her. She was so unbelievably cute. He was going to make sure the Tardis had all her internal cameras running at all times. “For you, I’m sure she does.”

“Hah!” River jumped and pelted up the stairs. “Last one there’s a boring old grown up!”

—————

River was dressed in a pink leotard, swinging and looping in a complex routine on the uneven parallel bars. She folded her hips forward over the lower bar, kicked back and swung back down over them with a split, twisting with her hands to turn around on the upper bar and swing back over the lower bar to lay out her short body at the hips over the lower bar, jackknife back up and back then swing up and over, twisting at the top in a handstand, then back down, over, down and up again, with coordination and skill far beyond a normal six-year-old’s.

Amy snapped picture after picture as River showed off. Rory stood there with his mouth hanging open, a worried and rather horrified look on his face.

The Doctor put a hand on his shoulder. Rory shrugged it away. “They must have trained her near to death,” he said in a horrified whisper. His voice breaking with pain.

“I know, Rory,” the Doctor said in an equally low, intense voice. “ _She_ knows. But for today, let her be the little girl showing off for her parents.”

Rory looked up at him with heartbroken eyes. “You could have saved her.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Not _her._ ” He nodded to the extraordinary, billowy haired child, with her lamb’s tail of hair pulled back in a rubber band, who swung and swung and swung and looped and let go and arched high in a perfect triple somersault before landing on the mat in a perfectly nailed finish, throwing her dimpled arms in the air and arching her back in an Olympic dismount. Grinning fit to bust, as her mother took picture after picture, praising and laughing.

“For today,” the Doctor whispered in Rory’s ear, “just let her be your little girl.”

Rory’s jaw flexed and he nodded. He pulled out his own camera and yelled over to his girls. “Hey, you two, smile for the camera!”

They turned, mother and daughter, glowing, long red hair bent over a silky mop of yellow curls.

His moppet.

—————

They took pictures of River decked out in cowboy boots and a miniature cowboy hat, with her curls exploding out the bottom as she pranced around on a pretty little pinto pony.

They took pictures of the four of them on a picnic at Coney Island, River shoving a whole cream puff in the Doctor’s mouth until his face was smeared with it.

He promptly returned the favor, Rory laughing and snapping a picture of both of them, mouths guiltily covered in cream and bits of white caught in the tips of their hair.

Amy took pictures of Rory giving River a shoulder ride beside a river, all the while their little “Melody” complaining about how weird this felt.

Rory had laughed. All through their childhood, he’d been the small one. His chest inflated out as he paraded around, galloping along with his daughter on his shoulders, just like he’d always dreamed of doing.

River had laughed and grabbed a hank of his hair and held on.

————

The Doctor took pictures of all three of them cavorting in the Tardis pool. Rory in his rubber ducky swim trunks, Amy in her bikini, and River in a miniature, age-appropriate, version of her usual black one piece.

The Doctor grinned, having fond, grown up, memories of that swimsuit. And felt a little wrench in his own gut at the realization that if River and he could ever have had children, this might be what his own daughter looked like.

—————

Pajamas, getting tucked into bed. Rory reading her a bedtime story.

A baseball cap on backward, and bat in hand, as Amy tossed her a baseball.

Standing all pressed and pretty in “first day of school” clothes, that actually had Amy stifling a sniffle.

Riding piggy back on the Doctor’s back, playing “horsie” as “Uncle” Doctor pawed the air. Until Rory had plucked her off with a, “that’s _way_ too uncomfortable an image.”

River burst out laughing, rolling on the deck. Amy took a picture. The Doctor blushed. Rory scowled at him.

—————

Rory was holding River up to toss strands of tinsel onto the Christmas tree they’d set up in one of the Tardis lounges, Amy snapping pictures, when a long tolling bell echoed down the corridors.

Rory looked up. “What’s that?”

“Put me down, dad,” River said in her high pitched, adult, voice.

He set her down and she jerked her pajama onesie down around her hips. The Doctor looked up from the box of Christmas decorations he’d been rummaging through. He and River looked at each other.

“Well?” Rory asked.

The Doctor straightened up. “The battery’s ready.”

Rory’s face fell. Amy lowered her camera.

The Doctor and River looked at each other, then looked at the young parents.

River took Rory’s hand, then walked over and took Amy’s, dragging them both in front of the tree. “Take the picture,” she told the Doctor.

She looked up at her parents on each side, they both looked down at her with such heartbroken love that she felt her own eyes start to smart.

“We’ll have Christmas first,” she said, looking up at them with eyes far too mature for that young innocent face. “Everyone should have a family Christmas.” She smiled at them winsomely. They struggled to smile back.

“Say Fish Fingers!” the Doctor said with forced joviality.

They turned to him and pasted happy smiles on. “Fish Fingers!”

Naturally he snapped the picture right at the moment where they all looked like they were making duck faces.

—————

“You sure this is going to work?” Amy asked.

Rory checked the monitors and the leads connected to River’s temples and heart and other systems.

River stood, all three and a half feet of her, in a circle in the center of the sickbay, wearing a superelastic spandex unitard.

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” child-River said as she stretched her neck, rolling it and did a few limbering exercises. “It’s just a matter of boosting my natural ability to manipulate my age.”

“Girls are always better at that than boys,” the Doctor said, smiling cheerfully at them.

“Oh, so that’s what happened to you?” Amy asked.

“Oi!” the Doctor said. He straightened his bowtie defensively. “I’ll have you know I’m the perfect age!”

“Old enough to know better, young enough not to care,” River said, giving him an entirely too grown up smirk out of that baby face.

“Oi, you!” He pointed a finger at her. “You’re one to talk!” he said.

“What are you going to do, spank me?” she flirted back.

“Nope, No! Too much information!” Rory turned away, covering his ears.

Amy laughed. “I think it’s probably time you _did_ grow up, young woman!” she said with grinning mock-disapproval.

“Yes, mum.” River hung her little girl head, then peeked up one twinkling eye at her, setting both girls to giggling.

“All right, all right, let’s get this started.” Rory clapped his hands and moved to stand in front of River. He went down on one knee. “Thank you for this,” he said, eyes sad but shining.

“Can I have one last hug?” he asked.

“For you, always, Dad.” River flung herself into his arms, leads and all.

He hugged her tight, then let her go.

“My turn!” Amy plopped down on her knees and hugged her as well, squishing the child body with extra fervor, before forcing herself to let go.

She brushed away tears and smiled, she grinned at River. “You know, whatever else they may have done to you. We,” she waved back and forth between Rory and herself, “made one good looking kid.”

“What? You’re only just noticing this?” River said in an adult, affronted tone, hands on non-existant hips. “I think I’m insulted.”

Amy gave her another quick hug. “You’re a gorgeous woman too, but you knew that.”

Little River flicked her curls back with a toss of her head. “Of course.”

The Doctor grinned.

River turned toward him, “Lets get this started.”

The Doctor took a long moment to absorb that little face, that wide childish mouth, those brilliant eyes, those elegant eyebrows, that cute little button nose. And those silky golden curls, baby fine.

He waved Amy and Rory back. River breathed out and centered herself, standing firmly, balanced. His tiny warrior.

Once he sensed she was in the right state, he threw the switch on the battery.

Golden Artron energy crackled down the line and enveloped her, her skin started to glow, like the beginning of regeneration.

She looked up, and started to grow.

The Doctor sent a mental reminder to the Tardis to record all this. He and Amy and Rory held their breaths, as, slowly, that little six-year-old body started to change.

She grew upward, turning lanky, losing the baby fat, cheeks slimming, limbs lengthening, ten years old. Lank started turning to curves, thighs filled out, hips widened, breasts budded under the formfitting spandex. She stretched upward, growing taller, elegant young womanhood, she stayed steady for several long minutes, her face refining but otherwise staying the same.

Amy wondered if she’d stop the process there, she looked about Amy’s own age at this point.

But the change started again, shoulders slowly widening, hips broadening, the strength in her neck and shoulders and arms becoming more defined, breasts filled out, her hair darkened, from light airy gold to rich mellower bronze.

Her whole body refined, solidified, and she stepped forward as if gaining her balance.

The glow faded and washed away.

She exhaled. And River looked up.

“Damn,” Rory said softly, in awe.

She smiled. “Thank you, Dad,” she said in those low rolling tones that could set men’s nerves afire. “I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever had.”

—————

After a quick physical, they had an equally quick but companionable lunch thrown together in the kitchen.

“River, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone actually eat a Dagwood sandwich before,” Amy commented as River bit into the quadruple decker sandwich, complete with olive on top.

River took a sip of her tea. “Growing up takes a lot of energy.” She plucked a potato chip off the Doctor’s plate.

“Hey!” He looked disgruntled at Amy. “She’s back.”

—————

They gathered back in the lounge where they’d put up the Christmas tree.

River stood looking at it, and cocked her head. “Funny, I remember it being taller.”

Amy snorted a laugh behind her. River turned and tossed her a grin. She was back in a comfortable outfit of jeans and T-shirt, obviously enjoying being an adult again.

She went and threw herself down in one of the big leather chairs, tossing one leg casually over the arm and wedging herself comfortably in the corner of the wing top. Somehow managing to look both casual and elegant at the same time.

“That is definitely the last time I let myself get arrested on Kesta,” she said with relief.

She turned, saw the Doctor wiggling back under the Christmas tree on his hands and knees. She cocked her head and blatantly enjoyed the view, running her eyes appreciatively down his backside.

Rory shook his head and rolled his eyes. So much for his innocent little girl.

“Hah! Got it!” The Doctor wiggled backward, dragging a package behind him.

He stood up and raised it over his head. “One last package for Christmas!”

He walked over and handed it to Amy and plopped down on the sofa beside them. “For both of you.”

River wandered over to see, leaning on the edge of the sofa beside the Doctor.

Amy looked at him, then tore it open, with Rory helping. Out of the festive paper, emerged a thick, leather bound journal. Emblazoned in silver on the cover was, “River - Age 6”.

Amy flipped it open, then covered her mouth with a sob. The first few pages were the photos she’d seen on the dresser in the abandoned orphanage.

Her fingers trembled as she traced the image of her own face, smiling over her baby.

“I remember these,” Rory said, touching one. He looked up at the Doctor. “You kept them? How did you get them?”

The Doctor shook his head. “The Tardis records everything in her environment. She reproduced them for me.”

River moved closer and settled herself in the Doctor’s lap. He wrapped an arm around her.

Amy turned the page again, and there was the image of little River, held in Rory’s arms, blatantly posing.

Amy laughed, her voice choking. Rory turned the next page.

Page after page. Pose after pose. A nice, normal, beautiful young family.

Amy and Rory lost themselves in the photo album. The record of a family that might have been.

The Doctor leaned up and whispered in River’s ear. “You _are_ adorable.”

She leaned down and whispered back.

“I know.”

—

* * *

_For more stories by this author click[here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/works)._  
_Please take a moment to leave a comment in the box below._


End file.
